


The rush of your skin

by yourbuttervoicedbeau (kiwiana)



Series: Songs from the Jukebox [Prompt Fills] [30]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: A smattering of praise kink, Anal Sex, M/M, POV David Rose, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prompt Fill, Teasing, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:41:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25876867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwiana/pseuds/yourbuttervoicedbeau
Summary: David’s hands are fisted so tight in the bedsheets his knuckles are starting to ache as he summons all his willpower to stop himself arching up into where Patrick’s breath is warm on his chest, making him shiver.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Songs from the Jukebox [Prompt Fills] [30]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1775569
Comments: 46
Kudos: 261





	The rush of your skin

**Author's Note:**

> For an anonymous Tumblr prompt: [Smut prompts #2: "I’ve never wanted anyone to fuck me this badly." and #46: "I haven’t even touched you and you’re already this wet."](https://yourbuttervoicedbeau.tumblr.com/post/624536679852670976/smut-prompts). Thank you for the prompt! 💚 
> 
> Title is from Matt Nathanson.

David’s hands are fisted so tight in the bedsheets his knuckles are starting to ache as he summons all his willpower to stop himself arching up into where Patrick’s breath is warm on his chest, making him shiver. It’s the first time since their night at Stevie’s that Ray has gone away for an entire night and they don’t have to keep an ear out for the door or stay as quiet as possible under the covers; David had hoped there’d be lots of loud, wild fucking, maybe a kitchen blowjob or two, perhaps even him getting bent over the dining table if he played his cards right. Instead, Patrick had stripped them both down to their underwear with an efficiency that was far hotter than it had any right to be, pressed him back into the mattress, and murmured the six hottest words in the English language in his ear: _Stay still. Don’t touch. Good boy._

 _Stay still,_ that’s — okay, not easy, but doable, if he concentrates, and _good boy_ , well, he’ll do anything to be told he’s good, it’s kind of embarrassing actually, but Patrick never makes him feel ashamed of it. But _don’t touch_ he’d thought was an instruction for him, okay, don’t reach out while Patrick is touching him, he could (probably) do that except that’s not the situation at all. Apparently, _don’t touch_ was for the both of them. Patrick is moving his hands all over David’s body, yes, but three inches away which as it turns out is just enough room for David’s skin to burst into flames wherever Patrick's fingers hover over it.

And God, he knows, he knows exactly why Patrick is doing this; because early on they’d been going slow, and sometimes Patrick would start to grind against him and then pull back, and once he’d said _I’m sorry, I don’t mean to tease_ and David had replied, perhaps too honestly _It’s fine, I like to be teased_ because he didn’t know Patrick was cataloguing, building a fucking _12 Ways to Make David Rose Come So Hard He Blacks Out_ Buzzfeed list. Still, he would have thought being teased would involve _some_ sort of touching but no, Patrick is apparently determined to wind him up without laying a finger on him.

His begging has long since subsided into a kind of embarrassing whimper when Patrick finally, finally makes contact and it shoots through him like a lightning bolt; it’s just one finger, tracing along the top of David’s underwear — God, fuck, his _underwear,_ his very expensive date night underwear that he’s been leaking into for what feels like hours, they’re probably ruined and it’s so, so worth it.

“Can I take these off, please?” Patrick asks, genuinely, as if David might say _no thanks, I’m quite happy being driven mad by these non-touches._ David nods so hard he thinks he might actually give himself a neck injury and Patrick grins, that little aw-shucks grin that he makes when he’s proud of himself and trying to pretend that he isn’t, before he hooks his fingers carefully under the waistband and tugs them down, past his ankles and somewhere on the floor. Then he’s finally touching David properly except it’s not at all where he needs it; it’s a hand on his knee, a touch Patrick would happily give him in public even though David’s so hard he wants to cry just as a way to relieve _some_ pressure in his body.

“David, God.” Patrick’s voice is shaking, as though _David_ is the one driving _him_ to distraction. “I haven’t even touched you and you’re already this wet.” And David moans, too loud in the small room because the words are almost chiding, just the right side of chiding so that instead of making him feel bad they just make him want to _strive to be good._

David has come without his dick being touched before — something or someone has given the exact right pressure and rhythm to his prostate a few times, and there was that time the release of a cock ring was timed perfectly with a good, hard spank — but this is on another level, another building, another country; right now he thinks he could come from Patrick’s fingers circling his knee, from the bright eyes and the smug smile and the soft laugh that somehow doesn’t feel mocking.

 _Please,_ he thinks, _please, please, please,_ but Patrick’s eyes start dancing and he knows he’s said it out loud.

“Hmm. How badly do you need it, David?”

“So badly,” David groans, but he knows as soon as he’s said it that it’s not enough, that Patrick wants more; knows that he’ll give Patrick everything he asks for and more besides because somehow, somehow he knows Patrick won’t ask for more than David can give him.

 _“How_ badly, though,” Patrick murmurs, leaning over David so the question is asked right up against his lips. David could flick his tongue out right now and lick that smirk straight off his face, if he wanted to. But he wants to be good even more than he wants the taste of Patrick in his mouth. “David, tell me. How badly?”

David almost sobs with the truth of it. “I’ve never wanted anyone to fuck me this badly,” he whispers, voice raw, and this close he can see the way Patrick’s eyes darken, the light flush creeping up his cheeks to his ears just before he finally, finally leans in and kisses him, far more chaste than the situation really calls for before pulling away. And David wants to wail at the loss of him but he’s settling back between David’s legs and _oh,_ there’s a bottle of lube in his hand and _okay,_ that lube is being smeared over Patrick’s fingers and _God, fuck,_ two of those fingers are in his ass with just the right rhythm and pressure and it’s so good, too good, he can’t hold on, he can’t, he can’t—

“You can,” Patrick says steadily and goddammit, he must have been saying that too. He shakes his head, he can’t he can’t he can’t but Patrick just smiles. “You can, David, you want to be good for me, you can,” and fuck he is sobbing now because he _does_ , he wants to be good for Patrick more than anything in the world. He can hang on, he can hang on while Patrick adds a third finger, stretching him nice and wide; he can hang on when those fingers disappear and there’s just an empty feeling left in their wake; he can hang on while Patrick rolls a condom on and slicks himself up without ever taking his eyes off David.

And then Patrick whispers, “I know that was hard, David, you’re so good, I want you to touch me now,” and he pulls David up and onto his lap and _God,_ David can touch him _everywhere,_ can run his hands all over that broad back and pepper kisses along his shoulders and feel their stomachs sliding together as Patrick lifts him up a little more so the angle is better to slide into him and fuck, _fuck, yes._ And then Patrick pulls him impossibly closer, his arms wrapped around David’s waist in what is almost a bear hug, like he can’t bear for there to be even a fraction of a millimetre between their bodies, and David’s cock is caught in between them and he doesn’t need anything more than that he’s coming coming coming, so hard there’s some on Patrick’s chin. Even as he slumps forward he somehow finds the energy to lick it up and Patrick gasps when David’s tongue grazes along his jaw, his fingernails scrabbling wildly at David’s back as he thrusts up once, twice more and stills.

Soon they’ll have to try and find the energy to disentangle, to drag themselves into the shower so they don’t regret not doing so in the morning, but for right now David is quite happy where he is, as close to Patrick as it’s possible to get.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Come and find me on [Tumblr](http://yourbuttervoicedbeau.tumblr.com).


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